


no rules in breakable heaven

by surrenderer



Series: kylux positivity week 2.0 [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bad Decisions, Bottom Armitage Hux, Drunk Sex, Ex Sex, Exes, Getting Back Together, Hook-Up, Kylux Positivity Week, Kylux Positivity Week 2020, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Break Up, Top Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25075876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderer/pseuds/surrenderer
Summary: This could be any night from months ago, back when they were still together, fighting and fucking and doing everything in between the two.It's a night of alcohol, hazy memories, and Kylo pressing Hux up against the kitchen counter.For Kylux Positivity Week 2.0, Day 7: Alternate Universe
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: kylux positivity week 2.0 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807006
Comments: 19
Kudos: 90
Collections: Kylux Positivity Week 2.0





	no rules in breakable heaven

**Author's Note:**

> It's [Day 7 of KPW](https://twitter.com/kyluxpositivity)! Can't believe I've made it this far!
> 
> Alternate summary of this fic: "They're young and hot and messy, you can't blame them."
> 
> The title is from Taylor Swift’s “[Cruel Summer](https://open.spotify.com/track/1BxfuPKGuaTgP7aM0Bbdwr?si=cUqsE9zDSjmvmUBEHbbFqA).”

Whatever’s in his cup, it’s sweet and strong and cloying on his tongue, which means there’s probably more alcohol in there than is wise. Hux drains one cup, then a second, and decides that it’s time to swap it out for a better drink. He has no idea what possessed Phasma to have a fucking _punch bowl_ at this party, like they’re in college all over again, but he’s pretty sure it’s Rey’s fault.

This is another reason, on a long-running list, why he doesn’t like house parties, but Phasma had asked, and asked, and finally demanded, because “it’s been over three months, Armie, you can’t avoid every social gathering for the rest of your life just because Kylo _might_ be there.”

Hux hated it when she called him that and she damn well knew it. “Did you invite him?” he’d asked, and she’d shrugged. “He was in the group chat, as you know. I don’t know if he’ll show. It’s Kylo. You know how he is.”

Indeed.

Hux shoves his way through the small crowd towards the kitchen and ignores Phasma waving at him from the corner of his eye. Just one more drink, and then he’s out of here. He can already feel the heat of the alcohol burning its way down to his stomach, leaving him just tipsy enough that anything sounds like a good idea if presented in the right way.

He ignores the cooler of cheap beer on the floor because he knows where Phasma keeps the good stuff when she has people over. He’s just opened the bottom cabinet, under the flatware drawer, when he hears a low whistle behind him.

There’s only one person it could be. “You don’t get to do that anymore,” Hux mutters, grabbing the first bottle he spots inside the cabinet—it’s a nice whiskey that he gave Phasma for Christmas this past year—and standing up to look at Kylo.

“I know,” Kylo says with a shrug. He looks good—not that it’s any of Hux’s business anymore. The buttons on his black shirt strain with how tightly the fabric stretches across his chest and Hux can’t keep his eyes off the dip of skin at the open collar. “But where would the fun be in that?”

Hux won’t stoop to responding to Kylo’s nonsense, so he busies himself with pouring more whiskey into his red plastic cup before finally facing him.

“So that’s how it’s going to be, then?” Kylo steps closer, and Hux takes a step back. The kitchen counter presses against his spine; there’s nowhere else to go. “What happened to ‘we can still be friends’?”

“That’s what you _say_ when you break up with someone,” Hux says, letting the exasperation bleed into his voice. Has no one ever taught Kylo proper break-up etiquette? “What did you expect, that we’d be best friends immediately after it’s all over?”

Break-ups were never clean—they both should know that. Tempers ran high, things were said that couldn’t be taken back, and friendships never recovered. If it weren’t for their matching social circles, they’d probably never see each other again.

“I didn’t think you’d _avoid_ me for three months,” Kylo mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Every time I went out with everyone, you were never there. And I bet every time you went out, I wasn’t there either. Did you miss me?”

Hux will admit to that being his own doing—and Phasma’s, who organized all the various group chats and calendar invites. But it’s been three months, and it’s about time they both started easing back into the rhythms of their combined social life.

That’s half the problem with dating within your friend circle. But Hux doesn’t know what else he was supposed to do; he and Kylo could’ve spent years dancing around their obvious mutual attraction and pretending like it didn’t exist, spent years alienating potential lovers and their friends, or they could decide to just take the damn leap of faith. So what if they shattered when they hit the ground? It was still worth the shot, just to say they tried.

“I don’t know if I’d say I missed you,” Hux says dryly instead. “My dishes certainly don’t.” Their last argument, before the break-up, had resulted in Hux replacing half of his favorite set of dishware, which he has _not_ forgiven Kylo for yet.

At least Kylo has the good sense to look embarrassed about that. He hands his cup over to Hux when he reaches for it, and Hux tips a good measure of whiskey into it. “If you’re going to stand here all night and talk to me, we both need to be drunk,” he explains, passing it back to Kylo. Their fingers brush and Hux is proud of the fact that he doesn’t jerk his hand away like a shy teenager.

Kylo inspects his cup, more alcohol than fruit juice now, before taking a sip. He winces as he swallows, but goes for another. “Or we could skip the talking and just make out instead,” he says after, as if he needed the liquid courage to say the words.

Hux pauses with his own cup halfway to his mouth. “Is that why you’re in here?” He can’t even be surprised when he thinks harder on it, because of course it is. If any of his exes would be interested in making the awful mistake of sleeping together after the break-up, it _would_ be Kylo, the king of bad ideas.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t know you were in here, but you can’t tell me you weren’t looking to score tonight,” Kylo mutters, eyes flicking down very deliberately at Hux’s crotch. “You’re wearing your ‘fuck-me’ jeans.”

Hux blinks and then looks down at himself. His jeans aren’t any tighter than normal, so he has no idea what the hell Kylo’s going on about. “I am not. And even if I _was_ —”

He’s cut off by the press of Kylo’s mouth against his, warm and soft and sweet from the awful punch they’ve both been drinking. The angle’s off, given Kylo’s ambush, but Hux still feels warmth flooding through his veins and he can’t help closing his eyes and pushing into it. Months of being in a relationship, and then suddenly not, means he hasn’t been touched, or kissed, like this in what feels like too long.

“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll fuck off and leave you alone,” Kylo promises when he pulls back. Hux stares at him and fights the urge to yank him back for more. “But if you do, I’ll be out front.”

He’s gone before Hux can recover his breath, and instinctively, Hux licks his lips, chasing the fruity flavor of the punch.

* * *

Kylo doesn’t live far from Phasma, so that’s where they hurry to, racing each other down the quiet streets with the occasional interlude to make out against a lamp post, and then running up the creaky stairs with no regard for Kylo’s neighbors, and then bursting through the front door of his apartment still glued to each other’s mouths.

There’s something to be said about fucking an ex, Hux thinks hazily as Kylo presses him up against the door to shut it. There’s none of the awkward fumbling of a one-night stand, because he is more than familiar with the body pressed up against his right now. He starts undoing Kylo’s overworked shirt buttons as Kylo nips at his neck, hands firmly tucked in his back pockets and squeezing his ass at appropriate intervals.

This could be any night from months ago, back when they were still together, fighting and fucking and doing everything in between the two.

They break apart briefly to get their shoes off, and Hux barely manages to get his shirt up and over his head before Kylo is shoving him up against the door again, his mouth hot and wet and delicious. At this rate, Kylo’s neighbors will file a noise complaint against him, but Hux can’t bring himself to care when he can feel Kylo’s bare skin against his, when Kylo’s hands are all over him, warm pressure on his waist and lower back and ass like he can’t decide where to touch first.

He gets Kylo’s shirt undone and off his broad shoulders just as Kylo hoists him up and presses him back against the door, and Hux locks his legs around his waist with no hesitation, like it hasn’t been months.

For all their differences and their history, they still fit together perfectly like this.

“Bedroom?” Kylo asks. His hair curls around his ears and hides the slope of his cheeks, and Hux fists his hands in that lovely mane, and nods.

* * *

“Just once,” Hux says, although it seems ridiculous to say this, sitting on Kylo’s lap, both of them hard and wanting with two of Kylo’s fingers in him. He groans under his breath as Kylo pushes in deeper and pulls them out slightly, his knuckles dragging along Hux’s rim in a way that has his eyes rolling back in his head. “It’s a bad decision, we’re drunk and it’s just this once, just to get it out of our systems.”

“Mhm,” Kylo says, rubbing his fingertip against a spot inside Hux that makes him see stars behind his eyelids. He doesn’t sound all that convinced about it, even to Hux’s distracted mind. Smug bastard. “Bad decisions. Just this once.”

“Yes,” Hux hisses, although he’s not sure if he’s agreeing with Kylo or just urging him on. Either way, he groans when Kylo slips a third finger in and stretches him wide, just like he remembers. He doesn’t have the time, nor inclination, to go looking for a new partner, but this is different. This is Kylo, familiar and exasperating, and Hux still wants him. It’s an objectively terrible decision, but it’s the _least_ terrible choice he could’ve made tonight.

He pushes back against Kylo’s hand and barely holds back the whine that wants to escape when he’s left empty and aching, but Kylo is rummaging for a condom. Hux takes it from him because Kylo’s hands are slick and he’s taking longer than Hux is willing to wait for. He tears the wrapper open with his teeth when he realizes that the wrapper is also slippery now.

He knows he doesn’t imagine Kylo’s quiet _fuck yeah_ as he rolls the condom over his cock and slicks him up with more lube. It’s gratifying when he pushes his hips up, seeking more of Hux’s touch, but whereas he’d normally drag this out, push Kylo to his own breaking point, Hux is too impatient for it tonight.

Kylo’s hands are large enough to cover most of his slender waist as Hux lowers himself down, one hand gripping his cock to hold it in place and the other braced on Kylo’s thigh. “Oh,” he breathes as he sinks down, slowly—the stretch of Kylo’s cock inside him is familiar, but no less intense than it was three months ago.

“Just once?” Kylo asks, smirking even as he’s breathing heavily when Hux lowers himself down another couple inches with a low whine. He feels wrecked already, but then again, Kylo’s always been too good at taking him apart.

Hux glares half-heartedly at him, although he knows the effect is lost with how flushed he is, how they’re both panting for it already and they’ve barely started. “Just once,” he moans as he feels Kylo bottoming out. Just once, to get this _craving_ out of his system. The alcohol eased the way, but Hux can’t deny that he wants this as badly as Kylo says he does.

He feels so full as he leans forward, hands flat on Kylo’s impressive pectoral muscles for leverage, and also because he never wastes an opportunity to touch them. Kylo’s own hands wrap around his wrists briefly, thumbs pressing into his pulse points, before going back to his hips to hold him steady as he grinds down.

His movements are unsteady as he adjusts to the stretch of Kylo’s cock, but Kylo still groans under him as Hux rocks in his lap. “Yeah, come on, baby.” Hux can feel bruises forming where Kylo grips his waist, and it makes him ignore the burn of his thigh muscles as he rides Kylo harder.

It’s so good, having Kylo’s hands all over him like this again, having his cock inside him, that Hux is close to coming already. He wants to touch himself, but he also wants to ride Kylo into oblivion, to come just like this.

Kylo either knows him too well or can read his mind, because he lifts Hux right off his cock before shoving him down and over on the bed. The sudden shock of it nearly makes Hux come, his voice cracking on a sharp cry, but he barely has time to muster any outrage before Kylo makes him spread his legs wide, pushing his thighs up until his knees almost touch his chest.

Hux loves riding Kylo, but there’s something deeply satisfying about having Kylo looming over him like this, even if he feels incredibly exposed. He groans, reaching up and bracing his hands against the headboard as Kylo rubs his cock over his hole, firm and heavy against his rim before he starts pushing in. Hux is more than ready for him now, Kylo’s cock sliding home easily with a few short thrusts.

“Yes, just like that,” Hux moans at the ceiling as Kylo sets up a steady pace, rough enough that he knows he’ll feel it in the morning when he has to make his walk of shame in last night’s clothes.

From here, he can admire the way Kylo’s muscles strain with each thrust, the way the sweat drips down his neck and sternum as a bead of it rolls down between his pectorals and down to his abs. He can relish each spark of pleasure, squirming under his body until Kylo finds the right angle to send his eyes rolling in the back of his head every time he pushes back in.

Breaking up was probably a good idea, to preserve each other’s sanity, but damn if Hux didn’t miss the sex.

He wraps his arms around Kylo’s neck when Kylo leans down, their lips dragging wetly over each other in a poor imitation of a kiss. “You close?” Kylo murmurs, although he can see the evidence for himself, in the way Hux writhes under him and how his cock drips pre-come onto his stomach with each thrust.

Hux nods, tilting his hips up into each thrust as Kylo grinds into him. He’s neglected his cock this whole time, but he jerks up into Kylo’s grip with a gasp when Kylo wraps one large hand around it, smearing his thumb around the head to make the slide smoother. “Like this, right?” Kylo asks innocently, and Hux glares at him, although the effect is lost when Kylo squeezes on the upstroke, his thumb rubbing at the spot under the head that makes Hux black out each time.

It’s so good, the low burn of pleasure igniting into something hotter, more desperate, and Hux lets himself get swept up in it as he spills over Kylo’s hand, clenching hard enough around his cock that Kylo moans under his breath and buries himself deep inside him.

Hux can’t feel him come, but he doesn’t recall much of the moments after his own orgasm, only coming back to himself when Kylo pulls out slowly and lowers his legs back down to the mattress. His muscles protest the way they’ve been stretched and strained tonight, but Hux feels lighter, looser than he has in months. “Maybe we should break up more often,” he hears himself say muzzily, and Kylo laughs in response.

“Told you this was a good idea.” And there’s Kylo’s infuriating arrogance again, but Hux can’t find it in himself to regret much, if anything, about what they’ve just done.

* * *

“When you said ‘just once,’” Kylo begins, pushing himself up on an elbow and tracing a line down Hux’s spine with the back of his hand, “how sure were you about that? Because you could just stay the night... we could go again. I’ll make breakfast in the morning?”

Hux grumbles into the pillow because he’s clean now, all the mess wiped up carefully earlier with a warm washcloth, he’s had half a glass of water to chase the alcohol out of him, and he’s five seconds and a breath away from falling asleep. There was never a question about him not staying the night. But he doesn’t complain more than that as Kylo’s hand drags lower, circling his sore rim with a curious finger, and he pushes into his touch without thinking much about it.

It does feel good, and it feels even better when Kylo pushes his legs apart and gets between them. His hands go to Hux’s hips to pull them up, he makes Hux bend his knees back, and Hux shivers at the first gentle touch of Kylo’s tongue, shoving his head into the pillow to bite back his moan.

He is so sure there are reasons why he shouldn’t be sleeping with his ex-boyfriend, _again_ , but every single one of them all seem so far away now.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just keep doing that,” he breathes, and closes his eyes with a moan.

**Author's Note:**

> Positivity Week 2.0 has been such a balm for my soul, so I really, really want to thank the organizers and the fandom for putting this together. ♥
> 
> You can always find me ~~in the drift~~ on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/parttimewonders) and [Tumblr.](https://part-timewonders.tumblr.com/)


End file.
